Stella's POV
I panted, fingers tangling in his hair, nails unconsciously digging in. His hand slid between my legs, long fingers parting my lips, gently rubbing my wet clit, and I trembled, squeezing my legs together, but being gently spread apart by him.
"Relax," he whispered, his voice husky, his fingertips probing into my passage, slowly thrusting, drawing out more wetness. My body betrayed me, legs unconsciously spreading, responding to his teasing, and I involuntarily tightened my legs, moaning softly, chest trembling and melting under him.
"Adam, you need to apologize to me."
The words left my mouth before I could reconsider. We lay tangled in the sheets, our bodies still warm and slightly damp from our recent intense lovemaking.
Adam turned to look at me, genuine confusion in his eyes. "What?"
I propped myself up on one elbow, pushing a strand of hair from my face. "You made me angry, so you should apologize."
*Damn, why am I suddenly demanding apologies? This isn't like me.*
Adam stared at me like I'd suggested we rob a bank together. His eyebrows drew together, those green eyes narrowing slightly.
"You made me angry too," Adam replied, his voice cool but not cold.
I took a deep breath and made a surprising decision. "Then I'm sorry."
*Look at me, being the bigger person. I can admit when I'm wrong.*
The look of shock on Adam's face was almost comical. His eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as if he couldn't quite process what he'd just heard. This was probably the first time anyone had apologized to him and meant it.
"What, did someone put super glue on your lips?" I teased when he remained silent, reaching out to playfully tug at his lower lip. "Can't get the words out?"
We stared at each other for several long seconds, a silent battle of wills. I could practically see the internal struggle happening behind those green eyes.
Finally, Adam let out the smallest of sighs.
"Sorry," he muttered, the word sounding foreign on his tongue.
I cupped my ear dramatically. "What was that? I didn't quite catch it."
His fingers tightened on my waist, just enough to make me squirm. "I said, I'm. SORRY."
*Holy shit, I actually got Adam Lancaster to apologize. Someone call the New York Times.*
"Is Mrs. Lancaster satisfied now?" he asked, his tone hovering between annoyed and amused.
I pretended to consider the question, tapping my chin thoughtfully. "It'll do," I finally declared with an imperious nod.
Adam made a sound somewhere between a snort and a grunt, but I didn't miss the way his eyes softened slightly. Despite his grumpy exterior, I could tell he didn't actually mind. In fact, if I wasn't mistaken, there was a hint of appreciation in his gaze.
*He likes seeing me confident. Demanding. Taking what I want.*
"Then let's continue," he growled, leaning in for another kiss.
I quickly blocked his advance with my palm. "Wait—"
"What now?" His eyes darkened with unmistakable desire, his patience clearly wearing thin.
"Didn't you say something about soda and fried chicken?" I asked innocently, sliding back slightly to create some space between us. "I'm feeling a bit hungry after all that... exercise."
Adam narrowed his eyes, his jaw tensing. "You specifically said you didn't want any."
"I've changed my mind," I replied with a sweet smile, batting my eyelashes for good measure.
"Too bad," he said, his voice dropping to that dangerously seductive register that never failed to send shivers down my spine. "You'll have to wait until tomorrow."
Before I could protest further, Adam's mouth covered mine, effectively ending the conversation. His hands were everywhere at once, reigniting the fire we'd barely managed to extinguish moments ago.
With surprising strength, he lifted me off the bed entirely, supporting my weight as if I were nothing. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms encircling his neck to steady myself.
*Damn, he's going to drop me!*
But Adam's grip remained firm as he carried me across the room. I suddenly realized his destination—the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the estate grounds.
*This bastard is definitely getting revenge for all my interruptions.*
"A-Adam..." I gasped as my back met the cool glass. "I'm tired..."
His lips curved into a predatory smile against my neck. "Weren't you just asking for soda? One more round, and I'll have someone bring it for you. Any flavor you want."
*This bastard!*
I wanted to argue, but my body was already responding to his touch, betraying my exhaustion. All I could manage was a weak glare as he proceeded to demonstrate exactly who was in charge of this particular situation.
*Damn this man.*
\---
Later, after Adam had personally bathed me—an experience both mortifying and oddly intimate—he disappeared into the bathroom for what felt like an eternity. When he finally emerged, droplets of water still clinging to his chest, I could feel the chill radiating from his skin even before he approached the bed.
"Cold," I mumbled, scooting away as he tried to join me under the covers. "Stay back."
To my surprise, Adam didn't press the issue. He stood patiently beside the bed, allowing the cool air to dry his skin completely before attempting to slide in beside me again. This small courtesy touched me more than I cared to admit.
*Even when he's being considerate, it's somehow sexy. What the hell is wrong with me?*
Once settled, he pulled me against his now-warm chest, his breath tickling my ear. "Stella, why did you leave Rouge when you saw me? Why didn't you come say hello?"
I was too exhausted to maintain my defenses, but still unwilling to admit the truth. "There were people I didn't know," I mumbled, burrowing deeper into the covers.
*Grace. I didn't want to see you with Grace.*
As sleep finally claimed me, I felt Adam's fingers gently stroking my hair, his mind clearly still turning over my inadequate answer.
\---
The next day at work, I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. Every muscle ached, my eyes burned from lack of sleep, and focusing on the Light fashion show preparations felt like trying to solve quantum physics with a hangover.
"Ms. Winston, are you feeling unwell?" one of the team members asked, concern evident in her voice.
"I'm fine," I assured her, stifling yet another yawn. "Just didn't sleep well."
*Because a certain CEO couldn't control himself. How is it fair that he went to bed later than me, woke up earlier, and still looks perfectly refreshed? Meanwhile, I feel like I've been dragged out of a coffin.*
I was just reviewing the Milan travel arrangements when a buzz went through the office. Glancing up, I saw the unmistakable figure of Susan Miller walking through the workspace, her gaze fixed directly on me.
Our eyes met, and I couldn't suppress an ill-timed yawn. Susan's perfectly penciled eyebrows rose slightly before she approached my desk with catlike grace.
"Ms. Winston," she purred, her tone dripping with false warmth, "do you have plans tonight? I was hoping we could get together."
*Is hell freezing over? Since when does Susan Miller want to 'get together' with me?*
I didn't even try to hide my skepticism. "Ms. Miller, I don't believe our relationship has progressed to a point where 'getting together' would be appropriate or necessary."
A calculated smile spread across her flawless face. "This is a welcome party for Grace Davis. Mr. Lancaster will be attending as well." Her eyes glittered with malice. "Are you sure you don't want to come?"
*Grace again. Always fucking Grace.*
\---
At five that afternoon, I found myself in the elevator at GT Group headquarters, pressing the button for the 38th floor. I hadn't planned on confronting Adam at work, but Susan's invitation had left me unsettled.
*I'm not jealous. I'm just... gathering information. That's all.*
As the doors opened, I was startled to see Adam himself wheeling toward the elevator, his expression registering surprise when he spotted me.
"Changed your mind about joining GT Group?" he asked, one eyebrow raised in question.
"No," I replied, stepping out to let him pass. "I just wanted to ask if you're attending tonight's welcome party."